Page 102 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
“Um… humble?”
“I suppose so. It’s a little plain, but it’s comfortable, and a good size, in my opinion.”
“Right.” He looked down at the floor. “I suppose I should head back upstairs.”
“I suppose.”
“My cousin arrives the day after next.”
“I know.”
“I’ll likely be busy once he gets here.”
“Most likely.”
He paused, stiff and silent. “Will I see you at all, before then?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Right.” A second ticked by. “Adeline,” he asked slowly. “Do youwantto see me?”
She knew she should invent some excuse, or find a way to tease him, to take a step back from the blistering, imperfect truth of it all. But any barb she could summon fell flat. “Yes,” was all she said.
The slightest smile fractured on his face, and he made a move as if to step towards her, but a sound along the corridor stopped him short. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and swiftly swept away.
Finally, mercifully, the day’s tasks were complete. With only one day left until the royal arrival, the manor at last seemed spotless. Even Mrs Minton was impressed as she appraised the various rooms, and called all the servants to the kitchen after a rushed dinner.
“Do not think your efforts have gone unnoticed,” she announced. “I’m well aware of how hard you have all been working, so hard, in fact, that I predict tomorrow’s workload will be quite light—”
Hughes coughed, something like a laugh shimmering behind it. “Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Please continue.”
Mrs Minton scowled. “As I was saying, I’m mightily impressed with you all, so while we can’t all celebrate quite yet, Hughes and I thought that a little drink wouldn’t go amiss.”
Hughes brought out a bottle of something faded and dark. He promptly uncorked it while Thomas fetched the glasses. There was a murmuring of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as the deep red liquid sloshed against the receptacles, a heady, full-bodied scent of blackberries and summer drifting from the bottle.
The servants passed around the glasses, and Adeline took a slow sip. It was warm and rich, and decidedly potent.
“Don’t get too carried away,” Mrs Minton advised everyone. “There are still a few things left to be done tomorrow.”
A chorus of groans sounded from the party, but they were swiftly cut short with a steely look from the housekeeper.
“Good work, good health, and so forth,” she said, raising her own glass.
“Here, here!” they cried, and drank.
The wine was delightfully moreish, and a few more bottles—just enough to spread around—were summoned from the cellar. “With compliments from the Young Master!” Thomas declared, grinning.
Adeline frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Thomas sipped, lowering his voice. “I overheard him talking to Hughes earlier, suggesting we needed a bit of a break and earmarking certain casks of wine for us. Personally, I think he knew these were the Duke’s favourite and did it to spite him.”
Adeline’s cheeks warmed. “I doubt that’s true.”
“As do I.” He smiled again, offering her a wink, and returned to join the others. Mrs Minton had been coaxed onto the piano and Hughes was singing in his rough, gravelly voice. One of the gardeners was teasing him.
Adeline joined in for a couple of songs, but the wine had swiftly gone to her head, and the exhaustion was pulling at her bones. She wanted nothing more than her bed.
Silently excusing herself, she slipped away from the party, sliding into her room.
